


I Joined StarFleet On A Dare And Now Look What's Happened

by Ironic_Bookshop



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Honestly I have not fully thought this through yet, Relationship(s), Slow Burn, Space Shenanigans, annoying the shit out of kirk because you can
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29586495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ironic_Bookshop/pseuds/Ironic_Bookshop
Summary: Have you ever imagined what would happen to the crew of the Enterprise if they got stuck in the same situation as Voyager? No? Me neither until five minutes ago, and so now here we are.Very episodic in nature - pretty much just nicking episodes from Voyager, but then with Kirk and irrationality instead of Janeway and an endless quest for more coffee.It's me so there's probably going to some angst at some points, and a very long slow burn relationship between kirk and an oc.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Original Female Character(s), Spock/Nyota Uhura
Kudos: 4





	1. Vice Admirals don't fly, do they?

“Kirk?”

The surprise resounded through the single syllable of his name. He looked around from the desk and met the gaze of a young woman. His gaze flicked along her frame, trying to connect the brunette in front of him to any woman in his memory. She didn’t wear star fleet uniform but she did have the look of a young cadet. There was something in the way that she stood, hands folded behind her back, impeccable posture, chin tilted up, that seemed to suggest she knew she was talking to someone that outranked her. The woman smiled at Kirk’s confusion and offered up her name. “Catriona Pike. Admiral Pike’s niece? We met at his funeral,” She prompted. The recognition suddenly hit Kirk, and he turned to face her fully, greeting her politely.

“Yes, of course,” Kirk smiled at her, accepting the outstretched hand. “Is there something I can help you with?” Catriona retracted her hand and tried to bury her laughter by biting her lip.

“Forgive me. I’ve been assigned to the _USS Enterprise_ \- did you really not recognise me?” Her question burst forth with a laugh that she smothered with a hand over her mouth. The giggles bubbled around her hand uncontrollably. She turned away from the Captain and brought her laughter under control, breathing in shakily and deeply before turning back to face Kirk with a straight face. She bit her lip once more as Kirk’s confusion, holding in the laughter this time, and raised an eyebrow at her new Captain.

“Oh, I didn’t,” Kirk blurted out as the memory resurfaced, finally her face merging with that of the girl he had flirted with at Pike’s funeral. Catriona nodded gleefully, loving Kirk’s obvious discomfort. “I am sorry, Catriona-“

-“It’s fine, your reputation had preceded you,” She laughed, brushing off his apology with a wave of her hand. She sat on the desk Kirk had been poring over before she entered, and looked at her, laughter still dancing in her eyes. “I only came here to say my uncle spoke very highly of you. I’m looking forward to working with you, _Captain Kirk_.” With those final words, Catriona slid off the desk, and waved a farewell over her shoulder. Kirk was left in the office, bewildered and uncomfortable, as Catriona danced away from him, humming lightly under her breath.

* * *

A few days later, The _Enterprise_ was preparing for its departure; a five year mission in deep, uncharted space. Ensigns, Lieutenants and Commanders alike bustled on to the spaceship, often carrying heavy crates and bags. Greetings were exchanged happily between crew mates, people glad to see each other again, excited for another mission with their crew. A family of many species, hundreds of individuals all unified with the curiosity that drove them to join the crew of the _Enterprise_. Catriona paused on the steps that led into the ship itself, breathing in the last Earth air she’d breathe for a long time, and smiled to herself. A quick glance behind her reminded her all the reasons why she was leaving, and all the reasons why she was going.

“See you on the other side, Uncle Chris,” she murmured under her breath, and stepped on board.

* * *

She headed to Sick-Bay to report for duty, but barely reached Engineering before she ran into Kirk again.

“Hello again, Ensign Pike,” Greeted Kirk. Catriona raised an eyebrow at the Captain.

“Whilst I’m glad to see that you’ve remembered my name this time, Kirk, maybe next time you’ll get my rank right too,” She teased, a wry smile lighting her face. Kirk frowned, trying to remember the rank that was listed on her profile. Catriona laughed, and disappeared down in corridor into a sea of writhing people. A message appeared on the PADD in Kirk’s hand as he tried to find the bobbing of Catriona’s light brown hair in the swarm of people. He glanced down at it, a message from Catriona filling the screen.

_Message me when you remember my rank and name at the same time, Captain James Tiberius Kirk. Cat x_

* * *

McCoy was, naturally, pleased to have another senior doctor on board the Enterprise, and showed it in his typical Southern-Belle manner.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in my Sick-Bay?” He demanded, as he tried to keep track of all the medicines being thrown haphazardly into shelves and cupboards. Distracted, and not in the mood to have to mollycoddle this newbie, McCoy snapped his questions at her tersely. Cat stood with her hands folded into each other behind her back, same straight-backed posture that she had when she had ran into Kirk.

“Dr Catriona Pike,” She informed him, knowing better than to offer a hand. “Though, I believe proper introductions can wait till a less hectic time. What system of organisation do you use, Dr McCoy?” McCoy enlightened her, and Cat nodded once, abruptly. She turned on her heels, and picked up the nearest box, pulling out a tray with her other hand, and sorted the contents neatly. The hum of the engines suddenly increased in volume and intensity, the signal that the Enterprise was beginning its departure. Cat looked up from the tray of syringes she was reorganising and grinned at the nurse next to her.

“Allons-y,” She said with a wry grin. “Guess there’s no turning back now.”

* * *

McCoy and Cat got to know each other as they unpacked the array of medical supplies that had been left, somewhat abandoned, on various worktops. Nurses bustled around them, a junior doctor, still trying to learn the ropes, hovering aimlessly in the background; trying to be useful and managing to be the largest hinderance possible.

“So,” McCoy began, in an attempt at lighthearted conversation. “Who did you transfer from?”

“I trained at Barts, with Pomperoy” Cat answered with a grin over her shoulder. “But this is my first time on board an actual starship.” She spoke with a nonchalance that allowed her comment to flow over McCoy’s head, causing his only response to refer to their shared tutor. That was until he realised the second half of her answer, and stopped dead in his tracks. Holding his hand in mid air, the clatter of the tricorder resounding in the bustling Sick-Bay, McCoy turned to look at her, incredulous. Cat, much like the quadruped that shares her name, pretended not to have noticed the sound, yet her shoulders tensed slightly, her head tilting slightly towards the sound of the noise. Short of rotating her ears towards the source of the noise, Cat couldn’t look more like a kitten that had just heard the food bowl being filled if she tried.

“Your first time?” Echoed McCoy. Cat chirped an affirmative back to the CMO, before turning quickly to find something else to tidy. “You choice a five year mission to be your first trip into space?”

“Yes.”

“Are you insane?”

“Quite possibly,” beamed Cat, physically turning the junior doctor milling around to face the opposite direction, placing two hands on his back, and firmly pushing him into the isolation chamber. “Disinfect bed. Now. Go. Do.” She shooed him away with a sweeping hand. She turned back to McCoy and laughed audibly at his shocked expression. “I like to explore, and your captain amused me. Why not throw myself in at the deep end?”

“Because it’s the deep end?” Returned McCoy with a raise of his eyebrow. “Five year missions are difficult for those of us used to space, never mind a newbie,” he scoffed. Now Cat retaliated with the raised eyebrow. “I’m just saying, when the silence deafens you and the endless void makes you claustrophobic, don’t come running to me for help. I’m a doctor, not a therapist.” Cat laughed at McCoy warning, dismissing his concerns with a light thump on the shoulder.

“Don’t you worry, Dr McCoy, I come from a family of explorers. Before we wandered the stars, we wandered the seas. Exploration is in my blood.”

* * *

Cat was a fan of making people uncomfortable. She knew she had a youthful face and an easy laugh that made people always think she was younger than she truly was. When people forgot her or dismissed her, that was when she could have her fun, making slightly cryptic comments which people interpreted in whatever way they would. She was oh-so-glad to see that Kirk assumed that he’d slept with her and forgotten about it, rather than remembering the truth. That she had been the doctor to treat him after that catastrophe with Khan. That she’d also been the doctor who’d created the serum which ensured that Khan and his fellow crew members would stay in a coma even if the cryotubes failed. That, technically, she out-ranked every single person on this ship, Kirk included.

That was something she’d keep to herself until he remembered who she had been at the funeral and every moment afterwards. After all, Chris Pike had told her enough of Kirk to know that his response to finding out she was his superior would be worth any awkwardness she’d encounter prior to his realisation. She’d even allow McCoy to boss her around if it meant that she could wind up the famous James Tiberius Kirk.

“Somehow,” Cat mused aloud, throwing a small circular device up in the air and catching it easily, her feet resting on the handle of a drawer. “I expected the Med-Bay of the _Enterprise_ to be chaotic already.”

McCoy looked at her over his PADD, warningly.

“Don’t. You’ll ruin the peace and quiet by taunting the universe like that,” McCoy said, not entirely insincere. Cat grinned, catching her latest toy and placing it at the side.

“You aren’t tell me you’re superstitious, are you, Leonard McCoy?” She teased, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. McCoy held her gaze, unimpressed, for a long moment, then returned to his PADD. “You’re a highly trained scientist, Dr McCoy, pull yourself together.” She grinned widely, her tone still eternally joking.

“Hey,” McCoy held up a hand in his defence, continuing to scan his document. “This is your first time in space, you have no right to mock me. Tell me you don’t believe in superstition a year from now.”

Cat beamed at him, and wandered over to his desk, resting her elbows on a small pile of paper that had already accumulated there.

“I’ll make a note to remind you that I still don’t believe in voodoo,” she laughed, peering at McCoy’s tablet. “I’m sure space can’t be all that bad. What are you look at anyway?”

McCoy shut down the screen, moving it to the small unit behind him and folding his arms at Cat. He narrowed his eyes at her, scanning her frame slowly as he leant back in his chair.

“How does someone who has never been to space become a vice-admiral?” McCoy asked in response. Cat straightened, placing one hand on her hip as she met McCoy’s gaze with an equally searching look of her own.

“How did you work that one out? My rank isn’t on my record. I checked before I boarded.” She tilted her chin up slightly, challenging him silently. McCoy merely raised an eyebrow at her, avoiding answering the question. Cat stared at him, her gaze suddenly solid and unmovable. Slowly, she lowered a hand to her side, and leant over to pick up McCoy’s PADD, answering lightly: “And isn’t it obvious? Nepotism.”

* * *

There was an injury in Engineering. There was always an injury in Engineering. The entire department was filled with people who were stupid enough to think that there would never be any consequences to their actions - Bones would not have been surprised if one of these days the idiots decided to strap two warp cores together and see if it made the _Enterprise_ go super fast.

Bones sent Cat to go deal with the injuries, daring her to refuse by dangling that one piece of information over her. He didn’t know why she wanted to keep her being a vice-admiral a secret, but to go so far as to erase it from her record? Well, that spoke of something intrigue worthy and so Bones would be holding it against her for as long as he possibly could.

* * *

“Pike.”

Cat gritted her teeth slightly, as she glanced over her shoulder then turned back to the injured ensign who whimpered softly as she pressed her thumb to his thigh.

“Can it wait, Captain?” She said to the thigh in front of her. “I’m a bit busy.” She didn’t so much as glance at Kirk again as she dove into her small bag, hunting for a vial amongst the mess of glass and metal. She could feel Kirk’s eyes remain on her as she snatched up the small vial and snapped it into place, warning the poor ensign that it would probably hurt. It wouldn’t, but the ensign didn’t need to know that. He could think that he was just very brave for the two minutes following his injection, a small ego boost would do no harm when it had been shattered completely by him pressing one wrong button and getting attacked by discharge from the warp core. She replaced the syringe to her bag and pulled out a medical tricorder, running it lightly over his leg, some of the anger fading from the exposed red flesh. Cat ran her thumb over the skin once more, satisfied at the superficial healing that had begun.

“You should be able to walk to Sick-Bay now. Ask Dr McCoy,” she paused and then snapped her fingers in front of the ensign’s eyes. He started and looked back to her, his gaze sliding away from the Captain. “I’m sorry, Ensign Leigh, am I being inconvenient? Am I disrupting your daydreaming about our dear Captain?”

Cat heard Kirk choke behind her, and fought the urge to smile, instead staring firmly at the ensign before her. The ensign who burned a bright red and muttered an apology. She accepted it with a brusk shake of her head and finished her orders. She was certain that the boy would not have remembered what he was supposed to tell McCoy, but that was irrelevant. McCoy was smart enough to see burn and know what Cat had done - she’d worked with him for all of five minutes when Kirk was unconscious which was long enough for her to know he was the only person she’d be willing to have treating her.

The boy stood, his leg shaky, but usable, and hurried out of Engineering. Cat took her time in sorting out her bag, placing the vials in neat rows that would be disrupted as soon as she heaved the bag on to her shoulder. Finally, she finished, and stood, turning to Kirk with a winning smile.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on the bridge? Captain?” She asked lightly. The slight frown on her face was normally enough for people to question whether or not she was serious, and she was disappointed that no flicker of doubt clouded Kirk’s face.

“Who are you?” Kirk asked, leaning against the pillar, his arms crossed across his chest, an inquisitive expression on his face. Cat tilted her head to the side slightly.

“Catriona Pike, daughter to Susan and Alexander Pike, niece of the late Admiral Christopher Pike. Qualified Doctor and the previous CMO of Starfleet Headquarters,” she said calmly, raising an eyebrow. “It’s all in my record.” She smiled winningly at him, and moved to walk back towards the Sick-Bay.

Kirk followed.

“And yet,” he said, running a few steps to catch up with her, “there is no mention of your rank, your training or your experience in space. So, I’m at a loss as to why you are on my ship.”

Cat paused, blocking the busy hallway. She placed one hand on her hip and looked up at Kirk.

“You are embarking on a five year mission and the only half-way competent doctor on board prior to my arrival was Dr McCoy,” she held his gaze, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “I would have thought you’d have been glad of the back-up medical assistance given the number of scrapes you’ve gotten this crew into since becoming its captain.”

Kirk watched her face closely, waiting for any sign of her telling him anything other than the truth. Cat rolled her eyes and added.

“My god - I sealed aspects of my record because people get jumpy at someone with my rank wanting anything other than a desk job. They get suspicious and dismiss me, and I get stuck at headquarters where nothing ever happens - until you showed up.” Cat hit Kirk’s chest with the back of her hand as she spoke. She tried not to notice how firm it was, how even with the double-shirt of Starfleet uniform she could feel the curve of muscle flex in response to her touch. She sighed dramatically. “I wanted adventure and I got stuck in _California_.”

Kirk raised an eyebrow at her.

“You picked a five year mission as your first venture into space?” He asked. Cat shrugged in response, waiting for a response she could react to, even vaguely. “It’s ballsy, I’ll give you that.” Kirk finally laughed, before striding away - presumably back in the direction of the bridge.

* * *

The _Enterprise_ was headed out of the limit of explored space, headed out towards something that would later be named the ‘Gamma Quadrant’ by Starfleet. Eventually, there would be a space station known as ‘Deep Space Nine’ built over where they were headed, but as of this moment, there was just the wide expanse of space. There was just endless nothingness as far as the eye could see - void of stars, of light, of life. This was were our starship was headed, still eager-eyed and open-hearted about what they might find out in the wasteland of space. This nothingness was what awaited them - nothingness interrupted only by a single nebula which sprawled and consumed ship after ship. This nebula had no name as of yet - no Starfleet ship had found it to name it, but in a stardate far in the future of our narrative, it would be named the Badlands. A fitting name.

For now, the Badlands is merely the nebula that begins the _Enterprise_ ’s troubles, flinging them from ‘outside known space’ to 70,000 lightyears away from Earth and they are rapidly approaching it. The Badlands is a two day flight away from the _Enterprise_.

The collision course is set.


	2. How We Deal With Death

McCoy stretched his neck as he leant back in the chair. He always liked the first few days of an extended mission - Kirk didn’t get them into any pointless scraps, no part of the ship was exploding and he could delegate any of the injuries accumulated to any number of junior doctors. It meant that he could actually pretend to stay on top of his paperwork to begin with, could actually have a look at the new equipment that Starfleet was always throwing his way.

The Sick-Bay was his home, and it was clean, and it was uncluttered, and there were no irritating green-blooded hobgoblins to pester him about logic.

“Dr McCoy.”

“Go away.” How the hell did thinking about Spock make him appear? McCoy gritted his teeth and spun himself around in his chair. “You aren’t bleeding and you’re still conscious, therefore, I do not care.” McCoy could feel the eyes remain on him and slowly spun back around in his chair, sighing dramatically and waving for Spock to continue.

“We seem to be approaching a nebula rife with plasma storms. The Captain wishes you to research any potential medical issues we may encounter,” Spock said calmly, his hands still folded behind his back. “He requested that the reports be on his desk within the hour.”

McCoy raised an eyebrow at Spock.

“And he sent you here to tell me this, instead of just using the comms, because…?” McCoy stood and moved over to Spock. Spock raised an eyebrow in retaliation, tilting his head slightly.

“The Captain was under the impression that you would simply ignore him,” Spock held his gaze. “I do not understand why he would suspect such a thing, but I am always happy to comply with his wishes.” Spock did not wait for a response before turning heel and stalking out of the Sick-Bay, inclining his head politely to Cat as he passed. She responded in kind, but did not stand to attention as the junior doctor next to her did. She waited until the doors closed behind Spock to turn to said junior doctor and tease her about practically straining something.

“Dr Pike.” McCoy’s call cut through her gentle ribbing of the round doctor. Cat rolled her head to look at him in a manner reminiscent of a stroppy teenager and acknowledged his call with a tight smile that did not reach her eyes. McCoy leant against the door frame to his office, folding his arms as he spoke. “What do you know about plasma storms?”

“Plenty,” Cat smiled, picking up a PADD from the side and toying with it. She scrolled through it for a moment or two until it became clear that she wasn’t going to add anything to her sentence.

“Care to share with the group?”

“Not really,” Cat smiled. She handed the PADD to McCoy and beamed. “I’m not the one who has homework to do. I don’t write reports, I read them.” McCoy took the PADD without thinking then looked down at it, and back up at Cat. She rolled her eyes and tapped the screen, pointing to the title of the article she’d pulled up. _Negative Effects of Plasma Storms on individuals inside a Constitution Class Starship_.

“This is a dissertation,” McCoy frowned. Cat beamed at him.

“Yeah, but I tested the hypothesises and realities behind the argument in a bunch of different holographic simulations. The author is correct,” Cat said, twirling away from him. “And as this is a constitution class starship, I would have thought you’d appreciate not having to hunt for your information.”

“It’s an undergraduate’s dissertation,” McCoy repeated, looking at Cat incredulously. She rolled her eyes at him and pushed the PADD further into his chest.

“And it is right.” She emphasised the final word, taking a step towards him as she said it. “Now, you can waste half an hour hunting for different articles, but I promise you that this author has covered all of the details you might want to know, because I checked it last Easter because I was bored to death stuck behind my desk.”

* * *

McCoy read the article.

Cat was right. It had every scrap of information he could possibly have wanted, and all he had to do to form his report was either copy and paste or bullet point it. He went with bullet points and summaries, after all, Kirk stopped paying attention to medical drivel after about ten seconds. He didn’t even pay attention when the medical drivel was directly related to him - the amount of times that McCoy had to repeat himself, telling Kirk what he really ought not to do, only to have Kirk do the thing and end up back in Sick-Bay ten minutes later, was ridiculous.

McCoy was even kind enough to include a ‘Kirk version’ of the report:

‘So long as no one is pregnant, and there are no coherent tetrion beams or major plasma storms that could mess with the ship’s systems, we’ll all be fine. Someone might get a rash for a day or two.’

* * *

McCoy still sent Cat to the Bridge, working on the basis that if anything did happen to them in the nebula, it was better for the two most senior doctors to be in different places - spreading out their ability to help get the ship back up and running. It made sense for the CMO to stay in the Sick-Bay, as that was where everyone would migrate, but the Bridge was surprisingly vulnerable. People always seemed to be thrown about and injured up there, so there really was no choice as to where else McCoy would send his newly gained mini-me.  
He resented the acquisition of a mini-me a little. He couldn’t help but feel like someone, somewhere, was trying to tell him that he couldn’t do his job without a babysitter. Perhaps that was the main reason why he sent Cat to the Bridge instead of going himself - trying to treat Kirk normally was a nightmare. Trying to treat Kirk in the middle of the ship malfunctioning was even more impossible.

* * *

Kirk glanced at the door as it beeped, alerting the Bridge to someone lurking in the doorway. Cat grinned at him, raising an eyebrow questioningly. She was a conundrum - earlier she’d been acting like a coy young ensign, intimidated by the Captain, and yet, here she was, waiting to be allowed on the Bridge but not quite asking. As though she didn’t need the permission, but still felt like playing into the role somewhat.

“Can we help you, Dr Pike?” Kirk asked, turning his attention back to the screen. Cat took that as permission to enter the Bridge and strode towards him.

“McCoy believed it prudent to separate the senior doctors in case of a plasma storm - I believe he sent the report?” She said, folding her hands together behind her back. Kirk frowned then nodded at her.

“He mentioned something about rashes,” Kirk said slowly. Cat visibly resisted the urge to roll her eyes and pulled her hands apart. She grabbed them once more in front of her, physically restraining their movement. Kirk frowned. “Did Bones really use the word prudent?”

“I’m paraphrasing.”

“Don’t - what did he actually say?” Kirk sat up slightly in his chair, turning to look at Cat more fully. Her lip twitched, the smothering of a smile a fraction too late.

“I believe he said ‘I don’t need an f-ing babysitter, go deal with the actual toddler on board’,” Cat grinned as she heard Uhura smother a laugh behind her, swiftly turning it into a coughing fit. “I assumed the toddler was you.”

Kirk turned back to the screen, and slouched down slightly in his chair. Cat bit back her laugh as he pouted, fulfilling the characterisation by McCoy only five minutes earlier. She was going to like it on board this ship - she’d been here all of two days, and already there was tension between the three people she’d been told were very close friends. The kind of tension that led to snarky comments and the fun kind of rule-breaking, not the kind of tension that made everyone on board the ship suddenly gain a fascination in cleaning their own quarters.

“Did you read anything else in his report other than the bit about rashes?” Cat asked, moving slightly closer to Kirk. He shook his head slightly. Cat sighed and tutted lightly. “Well, plasma storms also have a bad habit of messing with circuitry in a ship - if we get hit by one, I’d strongly recommend not touching a console on impact.”

Kirk moved his arm from the arm of his chair, placing it on his knee instead.

“Captain, I am reading a coherent tetrion beam scanning us. A displacement wave is following behind it.” Spock turned around, looking from his console to his captain. Cat swore under her breath, so quiet that Kirk barely heard it escape her. “I am unable to determine its origin.”

“On screen.”

The screen flickered from its general outlook of smatterings of stars and streaks of light as they hurried through space, hurtling towards God-knows-what, and instead showed a rushing of grey light. It seemed to be a kind of cloud, building and rushing, particles and light all blurred into one being, reaching out towards them, as though it were almost sentient.

Cat barely noticed the flurry of words that passed around her, staring at that image that crackled over the screen. It seemed to urge her towards it, dulling her senses to the red alert that flung itself up around the Bridge.

“The wave will intercept us in 12 seconds,” Spock said with a calmness that did not fit the situation, and Cat was rushed back to her senses. Suddenly, noise seemed to fill her ears, movement was everywhere. She scanned the room swiftly, saw dozens of hands on consoles, dozens of points of contact between the oncoming surge of energy and the crew of the _Enterprise_. She swore once more as Sulu informed them that they couldn’t go to warp - not until they cleared the plasma field at least.

“Brace for impact,” Kirk demanded, his hand wrapping around the arm of his chair. The arm that was coated in small buttons, a miniature console.

The displacement wave hurried towards them, filling the whole screen as Cat rushed towards Kirk, snatching his hand off the console as the ship erupted around her.

* * *

People were flung across the Bridge, bodies colliding with hard metal.

Spock somehow managed to look mostly unfazed by the collision, straightening himself immediately and returning to his station, assessing the damage. Kirk pushed himself back up, still somehow in his chair, but flung to the side, his ribs aching from the impact against its metal arms.

Cat picked herself up, groaning lightly, and pushed the hair back out of her face. She felt her hand come away slightly sticky, and looked down at it, surprised to find it coated with slick blood. She lifted her hand in front of her eyes, focusing on it carefully. She stayed there for a heartbeat, then picked herself up, snatching up the medical tricorder that flung itself towards her when the beam collided with them. She scanned the room quickly, glad to see Kirk on his feet and assessing damage.

* * *

The red shirt by Cat was dead. She didn’t need a tricorder to know that. She moved past his limp figure, and promised to grieve for him later, promised to feel something for this stranger later. But for now, she needed to make sure that everyone - everyone still living - on the Bridge was fine. Or if not fine, treatable and treated.

Gas sprayed down from the broken pipe on the ceiling, a spark nearly colliding with Cat’s head as she pressed two fingers against the yellow-shirted man’s neck. The pulse against her fingers sent a sigh of relief out into the Bridge, and she fumbled for her equipment, the young man rousing himself as she did so.

“Dr Pike, how’s Chekov?” Kirk asked, breaking off from his ordering of the Bridge crew. Cat peered into the young man’s eyes, flashing a small light into them as she did so.

“He’ll live, but he is not fit for any kind of duty,” She said, words hurrying out of her. She pulled Chekov upright, supporting him with one arm. He swayed slightly, but then supported himself. She steadied him for a moment longer, then pushed him lightly, demanding he go rest - not Sick-Bay. He took two steps, and then she caught his elbow, walking with him to the nearest spot she could find for him to sit. They vanished from the Bridge, the doors slowly closing behind them.

“Captain, there’s something out there.”

Kirk didn’t know who had spoken, didn’t really care who. The screen flickered to life at his request, and slowly a pixelated image appeared. It was a ship unlike any Kirk had seen before, a sprawling complex of metal limbs and a pulsing white light that shot towards some distant unknown.

“If these readings are correct, we are over 70,000 light years from where we were, Captain,” Spock reported, his fingers deftly pressing on the screen of his console. He glanced at Kirk, holding the concerned gaze that was shot his way with his typical Vulcan calm. “We’re on the far side of the galaxy.”

* * *

Cat hurried away from the Bridge, having treated everyone treatable as best she could, having left Chekov sitting in a darkened room, a bandage pressed to his head. She was back in Sick-Bay in a matter of minutes, having passed a variety of different injuries along the way, scanning them swiftly and dealing only with the most urgent. The blood on her forehead dripping into her eyes more than once, and she had to keep sweeping it away in order to see clearly.

She limped along the final corridor, propping up a security officer with one arm around his waist, the ache in her own limbs protesting as she moved. He swayed dangerously close to walls and exposed circuitry, but she guided him to Sick-Bay, only to find it crammed full of individuals.

“McCoy!” She called over the din. He glanced at her as he pushed someone down on the bed, restraining them in order to let the two semi-circular halves met over their chest. “Where are most of the injuries coming from?”

“Engineering,” he shouted back, already tapping away on the black screen that restrained the injured crew member. “Mostly burns and bruises.”  
Cat nodded curtly. She quickly scanned a handful of people on her way out, dismissing them with a quick:

“You’ll be fine - go to your quarters and wait there. I will come round once we’ve treated the worst injuries.”

Only two tried to argue with her. They were met with the full force of Cat’s authority as she commanded them, pulling them away from the wall they leant on, then abandoning them as she hurried to Engineering.

* * *

Chaos reigned.

She heard the pain before she saw it. Dozens of people lay dead and dying by consoles, dozens more writhed in pain, unable even to scream the agony was too great. Cat felt herself squash down the panic, a reaction she hated that she’d developed, and then dived into treatment. She made her way slowly around the department, beginning in the centre, by the warp core, and slowly spiralling out. She sent people to quarters, sent others to Sick-Bay, and patched them up as best she could. Away from operational equipment, ‘patching’ was the best she could do. Superficial wounds were easy to treat, as were broken bones - but organ damage? She needed more than a tricorder and a handful of serums to help with that. Even her handheld device that was designed to knit bone and flesh back together wasn’t a huge amount of use for someone with a punctured lung - and it was rapidly running out of charge.

Soon, she had to rely on archaic techniques to help to mitigate some of the damage - literally sewing flesh back together.

* * *

She hadn’t needed to deal with this level of damage control since the Khan ship scraped apart half of California, the ship splintering apart so dramatically that her hospital hadn’t just received injuries from the city, but had people beaming in from all over the state. At least then, there had been an entire hospital full of senior doctors, brimming with fully qualified, fully experienced individuals who all were trained to deal with this. So much of the _Enterprise_ ’s medical department was youthful trainees who were just getting their first taste of life as doctors - and even Cat was only experiencing her first disaster in space.

“This is going to be a long five years,” she muttered to herself, stepping lightly over the dead red-shirt. “Sorry,” she mumbled to him, before refocusing her gaze on the next injured individual. There were always more people to treat than there were to grieve. Focus on the living. It was the only way to get through this without hating herself.


	3. At Least He Let Us Keep The Dog

The person Cat was treating vanished below her hands, causing her to fall slightly, a hand colliding with the hard metal of the walkway.

“What the…” she muttered, but it was only a moment before she was transported as well, sent out of Engineering with a soft whizz of sound and light. She blinked as she was lifted through space, and when her eyes opened again, she was kneeling on grass. The blades tickled at her calves, irritating her skin slightly. She stood quickly, looking around for her patient, only to find them standing a few feet away, looking far more alive than they had a moment ago. “…hell,” Cat finally finished her sentence.

A horse whinnied in response. Cat glowered at it, and strode off towards the house she could see in the middle distance.

* * *

Kirk approached the house suspiciously, Spock and the others trailing slightly behind him. A number of the members of the Bridge had their tricorders out, scanning everything and anything, but Kirk simply walked. Sometimes it was better to look first, science later.

“Come up here! Come on now,” A cheerful voice called from inside the house, an elderly woman bustling out of the building. Kirk glanced across at Spock, waiting for some kind of explanation as the woman continued: “I have a pitcher of lemonade and some sugar cookies.”

“We have transported 100 kilometres, Captain,” Spock said lowly, watching the woman bustle back into the house. “I do believe we are now inside the array.”

“Who the hell is she?” Kirk asked, nodding his head towards the retreating figure. Unfortunately, the nod of a head is a very vague gesture, and Cat had chosen that moment to pick her way through the bushes to the side of the house and head towards the bridge crew.

“That would be Vice-Admiral Catriona Pike. I was under the impression that you had met,” Spock said, with never ending calm and a misinterpretation of Kirk’s words which caused a sigh of despair to escape from Kirk.

“You know damn well I did not mean her,” Kirk used his hand to gesture this time, before faltering and adding: “Wait, Vice-Admiral? You sure?”

“There is no indication of stable matter, which suggests that this is some kind of holographic projection,” offered Spock. “The woman included. And as for Vice-Admiral Pike - I am certain.”

Kirk watched as Cat picked her way over to the group, inspecting the house, the ground, the group of people in front of her. She did not speak as she drew closer to the group, but when the holographic woman emerged, speaking once more in a southern drawl and clucking around them like a mother hen, Cat stopped in her tracks and rolled her eyes.

Kirk swallowed his smirk and stepped towards the holographic woman, as she once more offered them a drink.

“No, thank you,” he said, dipping his head in a slightly diplomatic manner. “My name is James Tiberius Kirk of the United Federation of Planets, and of the Starship _Enterprise_.” The woman turned as he spoke, flapping a hand at him.

“Now, just make yourselves right at home. The neighbours should be here any minute,” she fussed, talking half over Kirk. She beamed, then waved happily towards the figures that chattered happily through the gates. “Why, here they are.”

The group turned, watching for a face they might recognise, but it was filled with archetypal country figures, all wearing clothes cherry picked from last 20th century fashions. It was a strange hologram to have picked, a strangely familiar and yet unfamiliar location - the right world, the right species, but archaic. It was jarring - they had travelled so far, and yet this was unmistakably Earth, just not their Earth.

“Excuse me,” Cat said, striding up the wooden steps towards the woman. “Might I ask where we are? And why we’re here?” The woman simply smiled at her, making some offhand comment about not meaning to put anyone out. Cat scoffed as she turned away, grumbling lowly to herself. Kirk glanced at her, before the neighbours overwhelmed him. One of the women in the group was very welcoming, smiling warmly at him.

“We’re real glad you dropped by,” she purred, glancing Kirk up and down. It was only polite to smile back at her.

“Kirk, she’s a hologram,” Cat said snarkily, pushing past Kirk and heading towards the barn she could see just a few metres away, a handful more of the crew emerging from behind it. “Even you must draw a line somewhere. I’m going to see if I can find anything vaguely resembling a holographic generator, come with?”

She didn’t want for an answer as strode away, leaving Kirk with a decision: run after her or let her stride away on her own.

* * *

“You do know I am the Captain, not you?” He said, catching her up in only a few swift strides. Cat glanced at her, the grin she clearly held back obvious in the slight twitch of her lip.

“My apologies, your grand Captain-ship,” Cat teased, curtsying low to the ground. She flicked the tricorder in her hand open, and glanced around, before meeting Kirk’s gaze and apologising. “I get quite one-track-minded when I feel like there is something to be done, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were being undermined, or anything.”

Kirk copied her action, flicking out his own tricorder and lifting it to scan the surrounding area. It beeped and whizzed lightly, but didn’t reveal anything useful - at least, not yet.

“I didn’t want you pulling rank on me,” Kirk said, glancing at her to watch her reaction closely as he added: “Vice-Admiral Pike.”

Cat laughed freely, lowering her tricorder as she turned to him.

“You did your homework!” She beamed. Kirk smiled back, but then paused, and asked:

“Why did you remove it from your record? I only know because, well, Spock.”

Cat caught her lip with her teeth, tugging on it slightly and then releasing it, huffing out a small weighted breath.

“Well,” she began. “People tend to get a bit weird when they know quite how high ranking you are, if you’re actually applying to serve under them. I didn’t want you to read my application, see ‘vice-admiral’ and wonder what was wrong with me that I was applying to be a doctor on your ship.”

Kirk leant against the barn, looking at her curiously. For the first time since he’d met her, she seemed to shift slightly under his gaze, tinkering needlessly with her tricorder. The artificial sun caught her hair, turning streaks of brown to golden in the afternoon light. It hadn’t been disturbed once since they’d been flung through space, still in that same plaited bun.

“Why did you apply?” He asked, folding his arms over his chest. “I mean, as a vice-admiral, you must have had control of a station or a fleet or something? Why would you want to serve on some random starship under the grouchiest CMO known to man?”

Cat smiled a little at that last comment, and let her hands drop to her sides. She shrugged lightly, shaking her head very faintly.

“We can trace our family all the way back to some 17th Century pirates, did you know that?” She spoke softly, eyes dropping to the ground for a moment before she took a deep breath and looked back up at Kirk. “I joined Starfleet because I wanted to explore - we’ve had generations of nosey fuckers in my family, and I am no different. I became a doctor because I wanted to know I was actively helping at least one person whilst fulfilling my need to stick my nose in everywhere - and then I was assigned to the hospital at Starfleet Headquarters. Then, they promoted me to Vice-Admiral when Uncle Chris died, and I got command of a fleet of medical ships. Which I controlled from California.” She sighed, throwing her hands in the air slightly. “I wanted adventure and I got a desk job. I want my adventure.”

Kirk grinned at her.

“Well, with this lot, you’ll definitely get adventures,” he said lightly. His eyes slid over to something behind Cat’s back, the smile fading slightly as he looked away from her. She frowned then turned to look around as well.

“Oh, great,” she muttered. “Shall I leave you two?” She smirked at Kirk as the flirting woman from earlier sauntered over and grasped on to Kirk’s arm, tugging him away and complaining about the smelly old barn.

“You know,” Kirk said, leaning away from the overly-friendly hologram. “I’ve only heard people claim a barn is this dull when they hide something very interesting inside it.”

Cat tilted her head to the left, and took a small step towards the barn doors.

“How bizarre,” she smiled. “I’ve had the exact same experience.” And with that she flung open the barn doors and strode inside, pushing the hologram away as she did so.

* * *

Kirk wasn’t quite sure what happened next. The old woman from the house had definitely reappeared, said something in a very sassy tone, to which Cat had replied with: “Yeah, well-“ before she was cut off by a beam of light.

The next thing he knew, he was strapped to a medical bed, a very large needle headed directly towards his chest, his crew mates around him all strapped down similarly. Most of them seemed to be unconscious, utterly oblivious of the tubes sticking out of them, yet somewhere, not too distantly, Kirk heard someone scream.

Then, darkness.

* * *

He awoke on the Bridge, head aching, but otherwise fine. He was back in the exact place he’d been beamed from - half way back to his chair, Spock next to him. Except, no. Spock was no longer on the Bridge. Kirk scanned the room, checking he wasn’t still lain on the ground somewhere, the effects of whatever had knocked them out still in his system. There were no signs of his feet poking out from behind any equipment, so Kirk dismissed it as Spock having woken earlier and headed to a different part of the ship, starting on repairs.

“Computer, what is the current star-date?” Kirk asked, making his way back into his chair, and feeling his gut clench at the sight of the damage that remained on the Bridge. The computer gave him the answer, and he frowned. “We were over there nearly three days?” He asked, directing the question to no one in particular. Sulu glanced over his shoulder at the Captain.

“It would appear so,” he said. “Though the ship appears to have just been left - it was just us that got tampered with, there’s no extra damage.”

“Well, I guess that’s a minor bright side,” Kirk offered. Whatever he was about to say next was cut off by a voice emitting through the ship’s speakers.

“Sick-Bay to Bridge.” Unusually, it was not Bones’ voice that carried through the air, but Cat’s.

“Go ahead.”

“Is McCoy with you and the ship just not picking him up for some reason?” She asked. Kirk frowned, glancing around the room even though he knew the answer. Perhaps Spock’s absence was not as innocent as he thought.

“No. No, he’s not here,” Kirk paused. “Computer, how many crew members are unaccounted for?’

“Two. Commander Spock and Dr McCoy are not on board the _Enterprise_ ,” the robotic female voice answered.

“Right, well,” Cat said, startling Kirk. He’d forgotten she was still linked by comms to the Bridge. “Can we go get him? I like that stroppy bastard.”

Kirk lifted an eyebrow, and shrugged slightly. He scratched his head, silent for a moment, then:

“Sulu, with me. We’re going back to the array -we’ll break into teams, search the whole array and get Spock and Bones back. Uhura, let Security know that I’ll need six men to beam down with us,” Kirk ordered, getting up from his chair. “Tell them bring compression phaser rifles, and meet us in transporter room two.” He paused for a moment, then added: “While we’re gone, find out as much as you can about that array. If it brought us here, it can damn well send us back.”

* * *

Cat was waiting for Kirk in transporter room two, having already commandeered a rifle off of one of the security guards. It was slung across her shoulder, the strap clear against the bright blue of her dress.

“Oh, no,” Kirk said, catching sight of the woman leaning casually against the wall. “You are not coming with us.”

Cat smirked at him, and crossed her arms.

“You ought to bring a medical professional with you - what if they’re hooked up to an array of machines? Are you just going to rip the tubes out of McCoy and let him bleed to death before you can even beam him to Sick-Bay?” She challenged. “Or perhaps you think you know enough about emergency treatment that you’ll be okay?”

Kirk held her gaze, not rising to the challenge. He simply shook his head at her, and repeated his earlier statement.

“No. You are staying on this ship and treating everyone who was injured before we got beamed across to that array,” Kirk ordered. Cat grinned at him, and pushed herself off the wall, her slightly heeled boots sounding satisfyingly authoritative on the metal floor.

“Weirdly, the being that lives on that array healed them for me, so I’m free to come with you,” she beamed, stopping right in front of Kirk, arms still folded across her chest. She barely drew level with Kirk’s chin, even in heels, but that didn’t detract from the defiance of her posture. Somehow, it seemed to add to it. She grinned wider. “And, in any case, Jimmy, I outrank you. I do what I want.”

“Don’t call me Jimmy.” The words came out of Kirk’s mouth before he realised who he was talking to, the regret plastering itself across his face as soon as he realised. He crossed his own arms back at Cat, their forearms nearly touching. “If you insist on being part of my crew, you follow my orders and stop trying to undermine me.”

Cat tilted her head to the side and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as though she were considering the proposal. She let her eyes drift out of focus, then snap back on to Kirk’s face.

“No, I don’t think I will. Come along, Jimmy, let’s go fetch our dear CMO before he gets ripped to tiny little pieces,” she chirped, before striding on to the transporter pad. She lifted an eyebrow impatiently and gestured to the pad. Kirk held in the irritable grunt that wanted to burst from him, and followed her, deliberately standing as far from her as possible. Sulu followed him, standing on the small circle next to Cat, and trying to hold in his laughter. Cat glanced at him and held out her hand. “Sulu, right? I’m Cat Pike,” she smiled warmly.

“I know,” he said, taking her hand nonetheless. “We met after the Khan incident.”

Cat faltered, her hand hovering in his for a moment as she thought back.

Kirk rolled his eyes and gave the command for them to be beamed across to the array.

* * *

As the lights faded from around the away teams, Cat’s eyes lit up. She turned back to Sulu and grinned.

“You’re Ben’s husband!” She said triumphantly. Sulu grinned at her and nodded.

“Would you two focus, please?” Kirk said, only slightly stroppily. Cat smothered her laugh, adjusting the strap on her shoulder to distract herself.

“Aw, Jimmy, are you jealous that I’m making friends?” She teased. Kirk rubbed his forehead with his ring finger, pressing his thumb into his temple.

“No, Pike, I am annoyed that you are making small talk instead of focusing on trying to find my First Officer and my CMO,” he snapped. He turned to the security officers, and gestured a split between them. “You four, go with Sulu towards the barn. You two with me and Dr Pike.”

Cat grinned and leant towards Sulu before he could start to head towards the barn.

“He’s grumpy,” she teased, just loud enough for Kirk to hear her. Then, she darted towards him, and folded her hands neatly behind her back. “Where to, Captain?”

* * *

They explored the whole of the array, meeting back up in front of the house. None of them had detected any sign of human life, although Cat had squealed with delight when she’d picked up some data on her tricorder. Kirk had wheeled around, almost letting himself be excited, when he found her kneeling on the ground petting a dog enthusiastically.

“Leave the holographic dog alone,” he’d said irritably. “Didn’t you just make fun of me for smiling at a holographic woman?”

“I did, because it was ridiculous, wasn’t it?” Cat said in a baby voice, fluffing the beagle’s fur up enthusiastically, sending its tail wagging rapidly. She grinned at the dog, kissing the top of its head loudly. “But you’re not a hologram, are you? Are you? No, you’re not. You’re the best doggie in the universe, aren’t you, Porthos? Oh, I love you so much!”

She had refused to let go of the dog, carrying it around the array like it was a small child, cooing intermittently. It took ten minutes for Kirk to get her to explain that the dog was in fact Admiral Archer’s dog, who Scotty had used as a guinea pig for his prototype transwarp transporter, but that sent her into another round of baby talk to the dog.

“Hey, Kirk,” she cut over his discussion with Sulu about what they should do next. Kirk turned around, caught sight of her making the dog’s paw wave, and nearly turned around again, but she jerked her head towards the old man who still sat on the porch, playing the banjo. “Why don’t we just ask this guy?” She didn’t wait for an answer before striding over to him, a broad smile on her face.

“Oh, no,” the old man groaned before Cat could open her mouth to speak. “Not you lot again. You don’t have what I need.”

Cat beamed.

“Hello! We’ll go if you give us back our friends,” she said joyfully, although her free hand did find its way to the rifle slung over her shoulder. “Because frankly, I don’t know what you need and I really don’t care - I just want my crew mates back, and to be sent back home.”

“Well, now, aren’t you contentious for a minor bipedal species?” The old man said, mockingly. Cat merely smirked at him.

“This minor bipedal species doesn’t appreciate being abducted,” Kirk said from behind her.

“It was necessary!” Snapped the old man. “Your people aren’t here - you didn’t have what I need, but they might.”

Cat lifted an eyebrow and then handed the dog off to a security officer who looked at her reproachfully.

“I am your Senior Officer, take the fucking dog,” she thrust the dog into the security officer’s chest, then wheeled back to look at the old man. “Tell me where the hell you put my CMO, or I will find him anyway, and be a lot less understanding about ‘what you need’.”

“Look,” Kirk said, sitting down on the bench next to the old man, trying a slightly more diplomatic approach. “These people are members of my crew. They are entrusted to my safety and I just want them back. I don’t know if you understand this, but they are my friends - and I will look after them.”

The old man looked up at Kirk, surprise and protest in his eyes.

“Oh, no. I do understand,” he said, lifting a hand in defence. “But I have no choice. There just is not enough time left. I must honour a debt that can never be repaid, but my search has not been going well.”

“Tell us what you’re looking for. Maybe we can help?” Kirk offered. Cat stepped slightly further away, rolling her eyes slightly as the old man began to laugh. The scathing dismissal was enough for her, and she cut over his snarky comments about having scoured the galaxy with far superior methods than they could ever comprehend.

“You have taken me 70,000 lightyears from my home. I don’t get to go back unless you send me back,” she snapped, arms folded. “Captain Kirk is being very kind in offering you help, but I don’t give a shit. Tell me where McCoy and Spock are, and then send us back home.”

“Don’t you understand?” The old man leant away from Kirk, gesturing irritably. “Sending you back is terribly complicated and I don’t have time. Not enough time!” He flung his hand in the air, and suddenly they were being transported back to the _Enterprise_.

* * *

“Well,” Cat said, taking the dog back into her arms. “At least he let us keep Porthos.”


End file.
